


Familiar

by sunsets



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Animal Death, Body Horror, Conspiracy Theories, Cryptids, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Horror Elements, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsets/pseuds/sunsets
Summary: Oma Kokichi is a conspiracy theorist, hellbent on getting evidence of the elusive cryptid that he swears he's seen so that he can finally shut his friends up. But little does Oma realise that what he has been looking for was right under his nose the entire time.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 174





	Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> Listen... I don't know how I went from writing domestic fluff to horror porn, but you know what? Sometimes you just gotta do whatever the heck you want to do! Live your best life!
> 
>  **!IMPORTANT! TW for: animal death, blood, brief mention of eating disorders (no one in the story has one, but it's vaguely alluded to in one sentence), body horror and explicit sexual content.** If any of these are not your jam, then please don't continue any further. Personally, I can only stomach mild amounts of gore and violence so I've tried to keep it tame, but it's better to be safe than sorry!

-

“Boss?”

“Yes, Bubbles?” Oma replies.

It’s DICE’s monthly meeting at the apartment of their leader, Oma Kokichi, who had established the group roughly a year ago as a way for fellow like-minded conspiracy theorists to meet and discuss the latest conspiracies, ranging from sightings of otherworldly beings to government cover-ups. Soon after forming, they had become a tight-knit group of friends, united by their passion for decoding the mysteries of the world around them. Currently, they’re in the middle of discussing their findings for the month.

“You said earlier that you have something you’ve been keeping from us that you’d like to share?”

Oma grins, his smile stretching from ear-to-ear. “Nishishi~ I’ve been keeping this a secret for a while, but I finally wanted to show you all what I’ve spent the last couple of months trying to track down!”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a photograph, proudly presenting it with a flourish, holding it out for all to see. 

Chuckles, true to his codename, is the first one to burst out laughing. 

“What is _that_ supposed to be?!” he asks between peals of laughter, pointing a mocking finger at the photograph.

“What?! It’s a cryptid, stupid! Can’t you tell?” Oma exclaims, his pride shattering by the second.

The photograph definitely shows…something. There’s nothing there except for a dark and blurry figure, their features completely indiscernible. If anything, it looks like a shaky picture of someone’s shadow.

“Not gonna lie… I’m kinda disappointed Boss.” Bubbles was always hard to please, the uptight asshole.

“You could’ve at least put more effort into it Boss. Photoshop would’ve done the trick,” Lulu interjects with her helpful advice. 

Oma frowns, stomping his feet like a petulant child. “You’re all so mean! At least Saihara-chan believes me! Right, Saihara-chan?” he asks, turning to Saihara who has been seated quietly at the far end of the couch this entire time.

Saihara Shuichi is Oma’s next-door neighbour and friend. Oma had been new to town, having moved here for his theatre job shortly after graduating nearly two years ago now. They hadn’t become friends immediately; their schedules were all over the place and had rarely ever lined up, but seeing that they were the only two people in the building who were same age and both their main interests involved solving mysteries (which Saihara actually does for a living, much to Oma’s delight), it was only a matter of time before they became friends. 

While they are good friends, Oma’s not exactly sure what Saihara thinks of him, but Oma considers him trustworthy enough to invite him over to his super-secret DICE meetings every month.

And it also happens that Oma might just be harbouring a teeny, tiny crush on his neighbour pretty much the moment he met him. Just a small one, of course.

At the mention of his name, Saihara looks up from his book. “Oh? Uh, yeah! I do, Oma-kun…” he says unconvincingly. 

“Even your boyfriend doesn’t believe you!” Chuckles doubles over in laughter, the other members of DICE joining him on the floor in stitches.

“How many times do I have to tell you?! He’s not my boyfriend!” Oma yells over the howling laughter, his face red and puffed up, half in anger and half in embarrassment, readying himself to beat up Chuckles within an inch of his life. He hates it when his friends use his crush on Saihara against him, _especially_ when in front of Saihara himself.

Saihara lowers his head down further into his book.

“S-Sorry Boss!” Chuckles wheezes, finally getting a grip on himself and hauling himself off the floor, the others following suit.

Luckily for Oma, Koko comes to his rescue, albeit a lot later than he would’ve liked. “But there is talk of a monster in the woods you know…so maybe Boss isn’t lying,” she quietly chimes in.

“Eh? A monster?”

Saihara lifts his eyes from his book, still staying silent.

“Yeah! I’ve heard from the locals that there’s a monster who eats the animals in the forest! I swear!”

“How come we’re only just hearing about this now?” Bubbles asks, folding his arms.

Koko bashfully presses her pointer fingers together.

“W-Well… I’ve been so busy with school that I…kinda forgot to mention it last time. Sorry Boss!”

“So…a monster you say?” Oma repeats, his interest piqued. 

Koko nods hesitantly.

Oma claps his hands together. “Wow! This changes everything! Wish you had told me earlier, though!”

“But who’s to say that the…um…“specimen” in the photograph Boss took is the same as this supposed monster?” Bubbles asks, voice full of scepticism. Leave it to Bubbles to be such a killjoy.

Saihara decides then to speak up, “There is no way of knowing, unless you somehow get evidence of this “monster” and match it with Oma-kun’s photograph. But it looks like that will be impossible, since Oma-kun’s photograph doesn’t really show anything…”

“Having a detective for a boyfriend sure is useful, isn’t it Boss?” Chuckles teases.

Oma refuses to say anything to that, instead he decides to divert his energy into making plans for Chuckles’ untimely death. 

“I’ll prove it! I’ll show all of you! I’ll get evidence and prove that this was the same monster that I saw! I’ll make you all beg at my feet for my forgiveness! You’ll be rueing the day that you decided to doubt your own supreme leader!”

Bubbles looks around the room, ignoring Oma’s tirade. “Anyway…has anyone got anything else they would like to share?”

Bozo raises his hand.

“For the last time Bozo! The Earth is not flat!”

-

A week has passed since Oma had his outburst in front of DICE and Saihara, but he hasn’t regretted it whatsoever. In fact, he is still hellbent on getting evidence, by any means necessary.

Currently, Oma is sat in a coffee shop with Saihara, which has become one of their regular weekend hang-out spots. As always, they’re sat in their usual seats across from one another, talking idly about their week.

Saihara always looks at him with such warmth in his eyes that it never fails to make Oma’s heart flutter pleasantly in his chest. His neighbour is always doing kind things for him; greeting him good morning every morning without fail, buying him groceries when he knows Oma doesn’t have the time to, leaving little handwritten messages for him that he slips underneath the door, especially when Oma has had a rough day. 

As much as it fills Oma with joy, he tries not to read too much into it; there’s no way someone as kind as Saihara would ever have feelings for someone like him.

They’ve ordered their regulars. For Oma, it’s a large plate stacked with a variety of pastries and confectionaries, since he believes that there’s nothing wrong in indulging his sweet tooth once in a while, even if it’s weekly and his dentist is beginning to hate him for it. As for Saihara, he has ordered his favourite: absolutely nothing.

“Y’know…” Oma starts, taking a large bite of his pastry, his words muffled by the food in his mouth, “it’s still strange that I’ve never seen you eat anything.” 

Oma has been concerned about Saihara’s eating habits ever since he first met the guy. For a while he didn’t say anything about it, in case it was a sensitive topic and he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. But he thinks that he knows Saihara well enough now to ask without it being awkward. 

“O-Oh! Don’t worry, Oma-kun. I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

Oma narrows his eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you have no food in your fridge! Don’t think I don’t know about that!”

Earlier on in their friendship when Oma had first been invited to Saihara’s apartment, he had done his fair share of snooping around. He couldn’t help it; he’s just nosey like that, but he had held himself back from looking at places that he knows are private to a person. He has _some_ principles, thank you very much.

Saihara’s apartment is always kept in immaculate condition, a far cry from his own mess of Panta bottles and marker pens scattered all over the floor. Nothing Oma had seen had looked all that interesting or out of place until he opened the fridge and saw it stocked to the brim with…nothing.

Now Saihara looks like he’s been caught red-handed. It’s pretty funny; it’s nice that the tables have turned for once. 

“I’m busy with work so I don’t get the chance to cook. It would be a waste of money to buy groceries, so I eat out after my shift at whatever place is open,” Saihara says almost mechanically, like he had pre-planned that answer. 

Oma is definitely not buying it, but he decides to let it drop for now. It’s obvious that Saihara is avoiding the topic. For what reason, Oma doesn’t know, but he resolves to find out for the sake of his friend’s wellbeing. After all, Saihara is not the only one capable of doing detective work. 

“Anyways,” Oma continues, digging through his coat pocket for his photographs, sliding them over to Saihara. "What do you make of these, Mister Detective?”

Oma carefully watches for Saihara’s reaction as he glances down at the photographs, taking note of each and every micromovement. For a moment, he swears he sees a flicker of panic spread across Saihara’s face, but it dissipates within a blink of an eye. 

“Um…”

“They’re pretty good, eh? It’s not the hard evidence I’ve been trying to get a hold of since it moves too fast and it’s too dark, but it’s better than what I had before!” Oma says, turning his attention back to his food and scarfing down more pastries at inhuman speed. 

As if he’s holding a flaming coal, Saihara lifts one of the photographs closer to his face, scrutinising it further. If Oma wasn’t so focused on finishing the last of his pastries, he might have noticed the way Saihara’s hand is shaking.

“How did you take these?” he asks, his voice wavering ever-so slightly.

“Oh! I spoke to some locals and got them to tell me where they’ve seen the monster, so I went to those places and did a stake-out! It’s a shame you couldn’t join me though, since you’re always working night shifts. We could make a great monster-hunting duo, you know!” 

“I don’t think that this is a good idea, Oma-kun,” Saihara blurts out, uncharacteristically abrupt and firm with his words. He tosses the photograph onto the table, as if he wants nothing to do with it. 

Oma pauses shovelling a muffin into his mouth, jaw still hanging open. “What? Why not?!” he asks, trying to hide that he’s taken aback by his shy, sweet Saihara-chan suddenly becoming so forceful over a few photographs. 

Saihara’s face is blank and he refuses to look at Oma in the eye. Instead, he looks out of the window that they’re seated next to, watching the passersby. 

“You might not like what you find,” he says, matter-of-factly. 

What does he mean by that? 

Oma laughs it off, like how he does most things. “Pffft, oh please! Saihara-chan, I’ve been looking for this thing for _months_ now! I don’t care what I find, as long as I find it!”

At that, Saihara snaps his head back to look at Oma directly in the eye, his grey-gold eyes having lost all warmth that had been present earlier, their colour looking greyer than gold now.

“And what will you do, once you find it?” he asks.

Oma smirks, leaning back in his chair and intertwining his hands behind his head. “Capture it, of course! If not, at least get a picture of it up-close. I just don’t want anyone in DICE to doubt me anymore. What good is it being a leader of a conspiracy group when your own members have no faith in you?”

That was the wrong thing to say, judging by the look on Saihara’s face.

“Is that what’s important to you? Showing off in front of your friends? _Is that all you care about?!_ ” he yells the last part, causing everyone around them to stop and stare at his sudden outburst. 

Oma blanches, sitting up straight, the smirk wiped clean off his face; he hadn’t expected Saihara to be so upset over this. He doesn’t think Saihara has ever been this upset with him before.

“What’s with you today, Saihara-chan? You’ve been acting so _weird,_ ” he says, now leaning forward in his seat. “Don’t tell me! Aliens have abducted the real Saihara-chan and you’re just a replacement!”

Realising that he’s made a fool of himself in public, Saihara casts his glance downwards, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mumbles before getting out of his seat and heading for the exit, leaving Oma staring after him in bewilderment. 

As Saihara leaves, Oma tries and fails to ignore how his heart feels like it’s falling to pieces.

-

A few days have passed following their fight at the coffee shop and Oma has been feeling miserable ever since.

At first, Oma hadn’t considered it a fight; he had thought that things would go back to normal the next day, but that didn’t happen. There was no Saihara to greet him good morning, no bags of groceries waiting on his door step, no little notes slipped underneath his door. Nothing. 

Saihara was always a quiet guy, but the silent treatment proved that he was capable of going to new levels of quiet that Oma hadn’t thought was humanly possible before. He had bumped into him earlier in the day at the stairwell leading to their apartments; Oma had looked at him, but Saihara had kept looking forward, as though Oma wasn’t there. 

He still doesn’t understand what he did to make Saihara react so badly. He’s been mulling it over the last couple of days, wondering what exactly had ticked him off. Was it something he had said? Was it the photographs? Was it both? Oma has been wracking his brains over it, but he can’t think of any reason why Saihara would be so bothered by anything he had said or done.

Now it’s two am and he’s lying awake in his bed, staring at the imaginary shapes on his ceiling, the faint glow of the outside world casting shadows besides them. He had been tossing and turning, trying to lull himself into sleep but to no avail. 

Seeing that his attempts at falling sleep have been fruitless, Oma gets up to look at his conspiracy board. It’s a messy assortment comprised of newspaper clippings, printed online articles and photographs, some with handwritten notes besides them and some with red string looping around them. It’s his pride and joy; hours upon hours of hard work had been poured into it. 

Whenever Saihara visits, Oma always drags him over to it, explaining to him his latest theories and breakthroughs. Saihara would listen on; asking questions at intervals, thinking with his hand on his chin, nodding his head with a smile on his face.

He looks over to where Saihara would usually stand next to him.

He cries.

-

Oma usually doesn’t visit a convenience store so late at night, but this is an emergency; he had unknowingly allowed his supply of Panta to dwindle into nothing, and he wasn’t going to sit and do nothing about it. He _needs_ his Panta, like how a flower needs sunlight, or how a clown needs a pie to their face. Oma without Panta is unthinkable.

So here he is, walking through the empty streets in the dead of night with his hands in his pockets, the obnoxious, semi-functioning fluorescent lights of the convenience store on the horizon beckoning him closer.

He’s only a couple of yards away from getting his Panta fix when he spots something peculiar from the corner of his eye; a shadowy figure moving so quickly that it almost blends into the darkness of the night. Turning around, he sees that the figure is actually someone making their way into the general direction of the woods. 

Why would anyone want to go into the woods at this time of night?

Curiosity getting the better of him yet again, Oma diverges from his original path to follow the person, making sure to keep a distance. The person, possibly sensing that they’re being followed, whips their head around to check. Fortunately, there’s a large trash can that Oma ducks behind just in time before he gets caught. The dim orange glow of a nearby streetlight illuminates the person's face, and Oma’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees who it is.

“Is that Saihara-chan? Why is he going into the woods?”

The forest on the outskirts of town is well-known to the locals as a no-go area. People have claimed to have witnessed sightings of supernatural beings, some from folklore and some entirely unheard of, roaming the woods. Parents would often warn their children to stay away, scaring them into believing stories of ghosts and demons that would snatch them away if they got too close, never to be seen again. 

Oma, on the other hand, firmly believes that there is nothing scary about it. DICE and himself have scoured the place many times in search of evidence for any of these supposed sightings, but it all had come up empty. If the monster really is eating the animals in here, then Oma hasn’t seen any trace of it. There’s not even buried treasure in here. As far as he’s concerned, the place is a real snoozefest. 

After waiting a while so that Saihara doesn’t spot him, Oma switches on the flashlight in his phone and enters through the little pathway that has formed from years of people walking up and down it, their feet having worn away whatever had been growing there in favour of dirt and rocks. It makes him wonder why people have even tried coming here if they were supposedly scared of the stories. Maybe they were like him and wanted to see for themselves if they are true or not. Or maybe they just had a death wish. 

Above him, the canopy of trees blocks out the moonlight that would’ve helped immensely in navigating his surroundings. It occurs to him then that he has never been in these woods during the night, and without the stronger light of the sun, he doesn’t know where he’s going. 

He should’ve waited until morning, see if Saihara had come back to his apartment and if not, call the police like a sane person would do. But Oma was never known for making sensible decisions, and it’s far too late for him to change his ways now. He’ll just have to suffer the consequences that he’s brought entirely on himself.

Every turn he takes makes him feel like he's wandering hopelessly in a circle; there’s no visible markers, no landmarks to help identify where he is and it doesn’t help that all the trees look exactly the same. He has no reception here and his phone battery is also about to run out soon so he’ll have to switch the flashlight off. What luck. If worst comes to worst, he’ll just have to sleep on a pile of leaves until morning.

Oma is brought out of his rambling thoughts by a loud rustling sound, coming from somewhere ahead of him. He turns his head in the direction he thinks it’s coming from, but he can only see more darkness and trees up ahead.

It sounds like someone’s moving. Could it be Saihara? Oma hasn’t seen anyone else so far, so it has to be him, right?

He walks closer to the source of the sound, preparing himself to confront whatever might be there, phone at the ready.

Oma is greeted by the sight of a vaguely humanoid figure off to the distance; its silhouette dark just like in the blurry photographs Oma had taken. It appears to be hunched over a deer. 

Could this be it? Could this be the cryptid that Oma has spent the last couple of months chasing after? Could this be his chance to get real evidence once and for all?

Before he can get giddy with excitement, a pang of terror overtakes him. Where is Saihara then? Is he safe? Is he injured? Or worse…has he been killed by this…thing? 

Oma’s blood turns to ice at the last thought. If anything has happened to Saihara, Oma would never be able to forgive himself. But he knows Saihara, and he knows that he’s smart. He wouldn’t allow himself to be outwitted by some creature that probably only has the brains of an animal.

Speaking of animals, the deer it’s swallowing is still alive, Oma realises in horror. It’s still squealing, although muffled. The hind legs are thrashing wildly, but its efforts to preserve its own life are going in vain as there is no way for it to escape. How big is its mouth to be able to swallow a whole, live animal like that? A deer no less?

Going against all better judgement, Oma finds himself drawn closer to it, creeping quietly behind it, moving from tree to tree to cover himself in case it notices him. He fumbles to switch on the camera on his phone, readying himself for the perfect shot.

The squealing sound coming from the deer has come to a stop, with the creature having swallowed it whole. Oma’s stomach coils in pure disgust; he would throw up right then and there if he wasn’t so determined on getting his picture. He does _not_ want to show up to the next DICE meeting with no evidence after that huge declaration he gave. He’ll never hear the end of it.

Unfortunately for him, his attempts at maintaining stealth come to an end when his foot accidently steps on a large piece of flimsy twig, the resulting snapping sound echoing loudly in the near-quiet forest. 

The creature completely stills. The rest of the forest seems to still too, with just him and this monster existing in their own pocket of reality. Everything is so still that Oma can’t hear anything other than his laboured breathing and the frantic beat of his heart pumping adrenaline-laced blood through his veins.

It feels like an aeon has passed until the creature stands up from its hunched position and turns around, the dead leaves and twigs crunching underneath its feet, finally facing him.

Grotesque is a good word that Oma could use to describe it. Or terrifying, disgusting, hideous…the list goes on. The face can’t really be called a face; it’s more like a horrible contortion of mangled flesh, oozing from the head like it’s melting. On one the side of the head, there’s multiple eyes, all in different sizes and arranged in different angles, their gaze fixed on him.

But what really takes the terror-cake is the mouth: it’s just a wide, gaping void of nothing, taking up over half the head and its jaw unhinged. The light from Oma’s phone illuminates the otherwise difficult to see row of sharp teeth lining it; it somewhat resembles the mouth of a leech, only blown up and magnified a thousand times.

Oma’s heart seizes in panic. He had been expecting some kind of bigfoot or yeti type deal, where it’s just a large, mostly-ape looking being. Not _this_. This is beyond his understanding of what a cryptid is. This is beyond all comprehension.

He can feel a scream bubbling in his throat, on the brink of spilling over, but he covers his mouth with his hand before it gets the chance to escape; he’s come too far to risk the chance of accidentally triggering this creature into killing him. 

Maybe Oma’s fear is making him delirious, but he thinks that the creature looks more afraid of him than the other way around; the eyes appear to be blown wide in surprise, and so far it’s made no attempt to attack Oma in any way, which is unusual for a monster who was just consuming living flesh a few minutes prior.

But those eyes…they look familiar. Only one person has eyes in that exact same shade of grey-gold. Oma has looked at them countless times now; dreamt about them while asleep, seen how they light up in happiness and the way they focus when reading words in a book. Even now with multiple of them on a deformed face, they look at him with that familiar startled expression that he’s also come to love.

He knows those eyes. How could he not. 

“S-Saihara-chan?” he whispers, both in shock and in realisation. 

Oma steps forwards, extending a trembling hand that’s not holding his phone out towards the creature that he’s now identified as his neighbour and friend.

Saihara looks so small now, like he’s shrinking in on himself out of shame. Now that Oma is closer, he can see that Saihara’s body is mostly unchanged; he’s still wearing that same sweater and button-up combo Oma had seen him wearing earlier in the day, albeit now smeared with drops of animal blood among other things Oma doesn’t want to think about. 

There’s something almost comical about a creature with such a nightmare-inducing appearance looking so helpless. But for once in his pitiful existence, Oma can’t bring himself to laugh.

Wordlessly, Saihara takes a few awkward steps backwards before turning back around and breaking into a sprint.

“W-Wait!” Oma yells, trying to get his legs to work to go after him. He trips over his own feet at first, stumbling until he finally regains balance, running to catch up to him.

As he runs, the pieces of the puzzle all fall into place in his mind, one by one. It all makes perfect sense now; how Saihara is never at home late at night, how he never eats anything, how adamant he was that Oma should stop his searching, among other oddities Oma had noticed since having first met him nearly two years ago.

He should’ve paid more attention; Saihara was clearly in distress every time anything related to the topic was brought up. Why else would he have felt so bad if he supposedly had no connection to any of it?

Oma’s lungs are burning. It’s so dark and he’s lost all track of Saihara, but he still forces his legs to keep going. He has to make this right. 

The following sequence of events happen too fast for Oma to process. One minute, he’s running, and then in the next his foot has caught onto a sharp wedge of rock embedded in the mud, sending him hurtling forwards and tumbling downwards. A rough, cold surface rushes up to greet his head, and he is somewhat aware of his phone flying out of his hand, landing somewhere off to the side.

As Oma lays on the ground, he can feel warmth trickling down his face in streams, the part of his mind that’s not spinning alerting him that it’s blood.

Before he blacks out, he thinks he can see a figure approaching him, dark and blurry.

-

When he awakes, he finds himself in a hospital bed, the white fluorescent lights blinding and the sterile smell overwhelming. It’s a stark contrast to the darkness of the woods and the scent of earth he last remembers.

“Oma-kun!” 

Saihara shoots up from his seat next to Oma’s bed. 

“S-Saihara-chan…” Oma whispers, mind still groggy as he tries to take in his new surroundings. His own voice sounds so small and unfamiliar to his ears.

At that, Saihara sits back down.

“I’m so sorry, Oma-kun. I never wanted you to find out like this, and now you’re hurt because of me.” Saihara bows his head in shame, letting his hair cover his face so that Oma doesn’t see that he’s on the verge of tears.

“Saihara-chan…look at me,” Oma murmurs, now more awake but still drowsy from his sleep. He moves to sit up on the bed, lifting his hand to cup Saihara’s face. Saihara is startled by the contact, immediately lifting his head, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Under the harsh artificial lighting of the ward, Saihara looks more gaunt than usual. Oma can see how puffed and red-rimmed his eyes are, and his long, thick eyelashes are clumped together by dried tears. Saihara must’ve been crying for a while now, and Oma has never hated himself as much as he does now.

“You could never hurt me, Saihara-chan. It was all my fault…” he admits in a rare display of humility. He’s way too tired right now to put up a false bravado. And even if he wasn’t, he thinks he at least owes Saihara some honesty, after everything that has happened. 

Saihara is not having any of that. “No. It was mine, Oma-kun. I never should’ve gotten mad at you that day. I like you, Oma-kun… I _really_ like you, a-and I was afraid you’d come close to finding out the truth. I’m sorry I lied to you…”

Ah. His Saihara-chan was always better at heartfelt apologies than he could ever hope to be. It’s no wonder that Oma has fallen head-over-heels in love with him; he’s everything that he’s not.

“I hate liars,” Oma says, tilting his head away slightly so that he doesn’t have to see Saihara’s crestfallen face, “but…I understand why you lied. There was no way of knowing how I would react unless you told me. And I was so obsessed…with trying to get proof…” He retracts his hand from Saihara’s face, letting it drop limply onto the bed.

Oma has never felt so drained and defeated in his entire life. None of this was worth it, and if he could he would go back in time and slap himself silly into giving up pursuing his stupid aims. He would give anything up for Saihara’s sake.

“Oma-kun…” Saihara whispers, bringing both of his hands to cradle Oma’s. His larger hands completely encase Oma’s hand, as if he’s trying to preserve something precious and fragile.

Saihara’s hands fit so nicely around his, their warmth rekindling something in him that had been snuffed out over the last few days. It makes him smile.

“Nishishi…look at you! All worried about me, even after all the trouble I put you through…” he says, giving Saihara a weak lop-sided grin. 

Oma’s laughter is a relief for Saihara, as though he’s finally gotten a drop of water after spending days in the desert. 

“You’re worth being worried over,” Saihara says with firm conviction, giving him a weak smile of his own.

Oma blushes; no one has ever made him feel so wanted before. 

“Also, uh…your phone is broken,” Saihara says, removing his hands to fumble through his pocket, gingerly presenting Oma’s phone to him that has cracks splintering the pitch-black screen.

Oma’s eyes flicker down to his phone before looking to Saihara. “Well… I guess this means you’re buying me a new one!”

-

The next day, Oma is discharged from the hospital; his injuries aren’t anything that a week off from work can’t fix, both to Oma and Saihara’s relief.

Saihara helps Oma get into the elevator of their apartment building, having kept his arm around him the whole time, from the moment they left the hospital ward up until now. He didn’t even let go of him while in the taxi, much to Oma’s embarrassment. It’s not like he’s going to run off anywhere. 

He wasn’t aware that Saihara could be so possessive, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it. Not one bit.

Oma doesn’t really need the help either, but he lets himself lean on Saihara, savouring the feeling of his long, warm body pressed against his. He has his head resting on Saihara’s chest, directly above his very-much human heart, letting the thrumming beat lull him into a stupor. They’re lucky that no one else is in the elevator with them.

“I’m taking the week off work too,” Saihara announces.

Oma blinks up at him in confusion, the trance broken. “What? Why?”

“I want to look after you. It’s the least I can do…it’s all my fault you’re in this mess.”

“You’re still going on about that? Saihara-chan…how many times do I have to tell you? It’s not!” Oma is frustrated; he’s starting to sound like a broken record, but it’ll never get through to Saihara’s thick skull.

As soon as he says that, they arrive at their floor, the elevator doors opening with a woosh. 

“It is, Oma-kun,” Saihara says, stepping out of the elevator with Oma in tow. It turns out that his stubbornness is only matched by Oma’s own.

Oma gives up. “Well since you’re being so insistent, you’re now officially my subordinate for the week! You must answer to my every beck and call!”

“…I don’t mind that,” Saihara murmurs, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“What was that?”

Saihara stutters, “I-It’s nothing!”

-

“Saihara-chaaan…” Oma drawls from his place on the couch, lying horizontally with his head on the arm rest and having propped his feet up on Saihara’s lap.

“Yes, Oma-kun?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…what are you exactly?”

It was only a matter of time that this question would come up. After all, it’s been hanging over them like a cryptid in the room, both literally and figuratively. 

“Oh, well um…actually… I don’t really know myself.”

Oma quickly sits up at that, shuffling closer to Saihara and getting all in his personal space.

“Whaddya mean you don’t really know?”

Saihara lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well… I don’t know where I came from. I have no parents or a family. It feels like I’ve always been here, and it feels like I’ve always been like this. I also don’t have any memories of my life past the last couple of years. It’s almost like I materialised into this world out of thin air one day. All I know is… I’m probably not from this plane of existence…” he finishes, bracing himself for Oma’s reaction, who has been silent the whole time.

He chances a glance and looks over to Oma, who has been devouring each and every word coming out of Saihara’s mouth, looking at him with pure fascination and something akin to awe. 

Saihara blushes.

“Why don’t we find out together, Saihara-chan?” he finally says, starry-eyed and clenching his fists both in determination and excitement. 

“Huh?” Saihara certainly wasn’t expecting that as a response.

“Well, you said you don’t know what you are or where you came from, so why don’t I help you find out?”

Saihara’s eyes widen, full of emotion. “Y-You…you would do that for me, Oma-kun?” 

Oma shrugs his shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah! Why not? You’re looking at the number one expert in everything paranormal! I’ll find out for you, no problem!”

Saihara can’t help himself; he pulls Oma in for a hug. 

“Thank you, Oma-kun…” He lets out a shuddering breath into his hair, burying his face in the dark purple wisps.

Oma’s face is on fire. It takes a moment for it to register that he’s supposed to return the hug, and so he does, winding his arms around Saihara’s broad back and hiding his face in his shoulder.

They stay like that for a long while, just absorbing the feeling of being so close to one another, their bodies melding into each other. A hug like this was long overdue, Oma thinks, and neither of them want to break the embrace.

As they hug, Oma’s thoughts wonder to what Saihara had just said. He can’t begin to imagine how rough it must’ve been and still is for Saihara; not knowing who you are or where you came from must be hard. It must’ve been difficult for Saihara to form some sense of an identity without having an inkling of an idea about his past, not to mention how lonely he must’ve felt. But he’s somehow managed to, and he’s done it so well that he’s passed as an ordinary human complete with a personality, hobbies and unique quirks without anyone second-guessing him. What’s really impressive to Oma is that he’s also done it without any of it being a lie or a façade, otherwise Oma would’ve picked it up the instant he had met him.

But it also gets him thinking…if Saihara had just appeared out of nowhere, does that mean he can vanish out of nowhere too? The thought makes Oma cling onto him tighter; he can’t bear the idea of Saihara ever leaving him. He doesn’t remember or care about what his life was like before Saihara, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to go back to whatever it was.

Eventually, Oma pulls away, but he still sits close to Saihara. There are still questions weighing on his mind.

“So…about what you eat then…”

Saihara rakes his hand through his teal hair, averting his gold eyes. “Ah…um… I can’t eat anything other than living flesh. I-I’ve tried to eat all kinds of food, but my body would just reject it…”

Oma isn’t entirely sure what compels him to ask his next question. “Does that mean you can eat people too?”

“W-Well…technically yes. But I don’t want to!” Saihara is quick to clarify.

“Nishishi~! I guess that kinda makes you a vegetarian, doesn’t it? That’s too bad. I was hoping that I could use you as a weapon against my enemies!”

Oma jokes to cover up the fact that his brain has short circuited. He could’ve _eaten_ him. Back in the woods, if Saihara had mistaken him for an animal, he would’ve been his dinner. Knowing this makes him feel…strange… 

He is not going to think about it.

-

Oma doesn’t want this week to end.

Saihara has been playing the part of being his subordinate really well, Oma thinks. A bit _too_ well, in his opinion. It’s starting to get a tad bit suspicious.

Attending to his basic needs is one thing, but Saihara really is answering to his every beck and call, no matter how ridiculous Oma’s requests are. 

One stand-out example was when Oma had asked him to bake him a five-tier birthday cake despite it not being anyone’s birthday, and a few hours later he had walked into the kitchen to find the five-tiered cake he had requested sitting pristinely on the counter, with Saihara cleaning up the residual mess from his baking.

And it didn’t end there, oh no. Oma then asked Saihara to feed him a slice of the cake, believing that there’s no way Saihara would be brave enough to do something so embarrassing. Lo and behold; Saihara did it, and maybe Oma’s eyes were deceiving him, but he actually seemed _happy_ to do it. 

Deciding to up his game, Oma finally gathers the courage to ask Saihara for the one thing he’s been dying to have since they became friends, and the one thing he doesn’t think Saihara will be able to give him. It’s now or never.

“Hey, Saihara-chan?” he begins, looking up from their game of chess.

“Hmm, Oma-kun?”

“Are you still going to do everything I ask you to do?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Saihara replies, too busy analysing the chess board in front of him before making his next move. He looks so absorbed in their game that it’s like he’s built an impenetrable wall around himself, consisting of bricks made out of pure focus and determination. Nothing could possibly faze him now.

“Well…then…can Saihara-chan kiss me?”

Except that.

Saihara balks, the chess piece he had been holding falling to the board with a clatter.

“I’ve wanted to kiss Saihara-chan for a long time now…you wouldn’t deny me, would you?” Oma pouts, his lower lip quivering and his violet eyes large and sad.

He doesn’t expect Saihara to actually do it. He’s just trying to mess with him, finally proving to himself that Saihara isn’t capable of giving him everything he ever wants. Maybe then he can move on and they can just stay as neighbour-friends. 

Oma doesn’t expect Saihara to kiss him. Not at all. 

So, it would be an understatement to say that it comes as a surprise when Saihara leans up from his seat to close the distance between them, kissing him.

Oh.

Having been caught completely off-guard, Oma sits in total shock as Saihara’s soft lips press insistently against his own, closed-mouthed but still conveying months of pent up emotion.

Saihara is just full of surprises, isn’t he? Whenever Oma thinks he knows the guy, the universe puts him back in his place, shoving a dunce cap on his head and making him sit in the naughty corner.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time too, Oma-kun…” Saihara confesses, pulling away and resting his forehead on Oma’s, gazing at him through his impossibly thick eyelashes.

Oma looks away, his face red and scowling. “…Saihara-chan is a real dummy…”

Saihara grins, all goofy and dopey looking like a man in love, while lifting his chess piece that he had dropped and swiftly moving his hand across the board in precise movements, not once looking away from Oma.

“Checkmate.”

-

Oma is getting annoyed.

He’s been dropping hints that he wants Saihara to stay the night with him. The guy is way too chivalrous for his own good; he always returns to his own apartment after finishing discharging his duties towards Oma for the day. Why? Oma isn’t sure, but he guesses it’s either because Saihara feels too embarrassed or that he’s wrongly deduced that Oma would like some alone time, or both.

Well, not tonight, Oma thinks. 

It’s late in the evening and Saihara has just finished affixing a new gauze to Oma’s forehead, as per their nightly routine. He gets up from his seat by Oma’s bed, ready to bid him goodnight and retreat to his own abode when Oma stops him.

“Stay with me… Saihara-chan…” Oma mumbles from beneath the soft sheets that Saihara had replaced for him earlier, extending his hand to tug on his shirt.

Saihara stops. “A-Are you sure?”

“If you keep dilly-dallying, I’ll change my mind and make you sleep with the fishes instead!”

Saihara sighs at the not-really-a-threat-threat, but he allows himself to be pulled down onto the bed nonetheless.

Oma grins a toothy grin, having gotten his way yet again as he lifts up the covers for Saihara. He welcomes the feeling of Saihara snaking his lanky arms around his midsection while tucking his head below his chin, cheek squished against his chest. 

Humming in satisfaction, Oma threads his fingers through Saihara’s hair and tangles his legs with his. In this position, Saihara’s long legs almost dangle off the end of the bed.

“You know… I’ll have to leave soon,” Saihara says regretfully.

“Ah yes! I forgot! It’s almost dinner time for you isn’t it, Saihara-chan?” Oma says with a playful lilt to his voice, no longer grossed out by what “dinner” for Saihara exactly entails.

“…Do you have to put it that way?” 

“Nishishi~ There’s nothing wrong with having to eat, Saihara-chan! We all have to!”

Afterwards, they lapse into a comfortable silence, but of course after a few minutes it’s broken by Oma, who has decided to have a giggle-fit out of nowhere.

“…What’s so funny?” Saihara asks, being able to feel Oma’s chest vibrate in laughter next to him.

“Oh nothing! Just thinking about how the monster is _in_ my bed rather than under it! Nishishi~!”

The aforementioned monster groans, closing his eyes and pressing his face further into Oma’s chest. Oma only cackles maniacally, both at his own awful joke and at Saihara’s reaction, like a supervillain who has succeeded in achieving his evil plans.

At around midnight, Saihara untangles himself from Oma’s hold, taking extra care to not wake him. Oma is too deep in his sleep to notice the fleeting brush of dry lips against his skin, on the spot right underneath his gauze.

Saihara doesn’t return until early in the morning, slipping silently back into the bed and into Oma’s arms, so when Oma wakes up, it’s almost as if he never left.

-

They’re in the kitchen, Saihara chopping vegetables for Oma’s dinner when Oma asks.

“Hey Saihara-chan? Why don’t we have sex?”

Saihara almost cuts his entire hand off.

“W-What?!” He gapes at Oma, his mouth hanging open in a perfect “o”. 

Oblivious to Saihara’s shock at his simple question, Oma continues, “Well…it’s a thing couples do, right? And we’re a couple now! Why not make it official?” 

Saihara gulps. “W-Well…you don’t _have_ to have sex if you don’t want to, Oma-kun…” he says, carefully putting the knife down and out of reach.

“But I do!” Oma exclaims without any shame. “…But do _you_ want to have sex, Saihara-chan?”

Poor Saihara. He might be a freakish abomination from another dimension capable of killing everything in sight, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

“Um… I…”

“So you do! I can’t believe it! Who knew that Saihara-chan is such a pervert. I bet that’s what’s been on your mind this whooole time, ever since we first met!” Oma wails.

“N-No!”

“Saihara-chan only wanted to be friends with me to get in my pants! Well, I don’t blame you, I would’ve done the same if I lived next door to someone as hot as me! Nishishi~”

Saihara ignores him, electing to answer the actual question posed to him. “…I do… Oma-kun.”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s do it right now, Saihara-chan!” Oma clasps his hands.

“Huh?! Right now? Oma-kun, what about dinner?”

“Psssh, dinner can wait! Besides, I’d rather be eating _you_ tonight.” Oma waggles his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, pleased with himself for coming up with that smooth line.

Saihara covers his face with the palm of his hand, most likely reconsidering his life choices.

Not caring at all about Saihara’s disapproval of his terrible pick-up line, Oma eagerly leads him by the hand to his bedroom, Saihara still incredulous that this is even happening.

“Oma-kun, wha-- Wuh?!” Saihara doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever question he had in mind, as Oma has pushed him down onto the bed and draped himself on his lap, straddling Saihara in a way that makes it impossible for him to escape. If he wanted to escape, that is.

“Shhh…” Oma presses a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. 

Seizing the opportunity, Oma removes his finger and closes the gap between their lips, his mouth pressing sloppily against Saihara’s and his tongue poking against his lips. That seems to do the trick, as Saihara opens his mouth in response, welcoming Oma’s tongue in with his own.

They’ve only shared closed-mouthed, chaste kisses up until now, so feeling the slick, wet heat of Saihara’s tongue roll against his fills him with a kind of feverish glee that not even witnessing an alien abduction happening before his very eyes could give him.

Saihara retracts his tongue, leaving a trail of saliva connecting their lips. “…Do you have lube?” 

“Mmm nightstand. Top drawer,” Oma says breathlessly between kisses.

“What about condoms?” Saihara asks, pulling back, leaving Oma kissing empty air. Unlike Oma, he’s got a tighter grip on his libido, and he just wants to make sure they’re prepared and all, lest they end up regretting it.

“Well… I never thought I’d get this far with anyone, so I don’t have any!” Oma cheerfully announces, shrugging his shoulders with his palms out.

“O-Oh. Do you want me to go get some? I don’t mind stopping…” Saihara offers, his face flushed red. 

Oma’s heart swells at that; Saihara is willing to drop everything just to make sure he feels comfortable. It’s sweet, but he’s way too horny to think about stopping for even a second. He thinks his dick might fall off if he does, and what good would that be?

“No! No…”

“Are you sure? We can stop at any time, you know,” Saihara says, his voice raspy with want yet controlled. He looks up at Oma, slipping his hand underneath his shirt and tenderly stroking over the soft skin of his hip, the touch leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“I’m sure, Saihara-chan…” Oma replies, now feeling uncharacteristically shy under all the attention and careful treatment he’s receiving. Only Saihara Shuichi could make him feel like he’s someone worth loving.

Saihara smiles, giving him a short and sweet kiss; a reassurance that he is putting Oma first and foremost, and that Oma has nothing to worry about.

They make quick work of their clothes, haphazardly tossing them onto the floor in jumbled heaps. Saihara grabs the bottle of lube and squirts a generous amount of it on his fingers before passing it to Oma.

“Right…so, uh…”

“What are you waiting for? Saihara-chan, you have to stick them in me!” Oma says, grabbing hold of Saihara’s dick to coat it in lube.

Taking a deep breath, Saihara slowly plunges one finger into Oma’s hole. “H-How does that feel?” he asks, hesitant and eager to please.

“Hmm, not too bad,” Oma lies. Really, he thinks he’s ascended into a higher plane of existence the moment Saihara’s long finger entered him, but he’s not going to let him know that.

Eventually, they fall into a rhythm, having adjusted to each other’s touches.

“Nishishi~ You should see the look on your face! You’re such a virgin, Saihara-chan!” Oma teases while stroking the length of Saihara’s dick. 

“You’re…you’re a virgin too, Oma-kun…” Saihara grunts out into the skin of Oma’s neck, his breath mixing with the perspiration that’s already there. He has added more fingers now, all of them meticulously stretching Oma with utmost care, reaching into the deepest parts of him that has him melting under his touch.

“I’m less of a virgin than you are!”

“What does that even mean…”

Saihara only gets giggles in response. Typical.

Once Oma and Saihara deem the other thoroughly prepped, they come to a stop.

“So uhhh… H-How do you want to do it?”

Oma ponders this for a moment. “I want to see you,” he decides.

“Huh?”

“I want to see _you_ ,” Oma repeats himself, wrapping his arms around Saihara’s neck and bringing their foreheads together, his violet eyes looking intently into platinum in hopes that Saihara gets what he’s asking for.

It takes a moment for it to click. “O-Oh! A-Are you sure? It’s just that…you were so afraid the first time… I don’t want to scare you again…”

“And what if I like being scared, Saihara-chan?” Oma breathes against Saihara’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I… I… U-Uhhh…” Oops. Looks like Oma has broken Saihara. What a shame; he really liked this one too.

Closing his eyes shut, Saihara lets his human guise drop, his flesh contorting and twisting in a way that definitely looks painful, but isn’t for him. Oma should be sick, should be disgusted by the sight but he’s not; he sits back, observing Saihara like how someone would observe a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, waiting for it to spread its wings and see the beautiful patterns adorning it.

In daylight, Oma can now fully appreciate Saihara’s appearance. He’s honestly not all that grotesque and terrifying as he was in the woods; the changes aren’t huge aside from his face. Funnily enough, his hair is intact, the strands of teal framing his face like they always do. 

The only other difference Oma can see is that Saihara’s hands have elongated, the fingers longer and claw-like, probably because he needs to be able to hold onto his prey. These very same hands that can effortlessly slice Oma into ribbons are currently holding him with such care, and Oma finds the paradox both dizzying and arousing. 

Maybe, Oma thinks, he doesn’t feel so scared because he was always drawn to the terrifying and surreal, and his next-door neighbour who he has been in love with for the past two years happening to fit the criteria perfectly is almost too good to be true. Besides, it’s only his beloved Saihara-chan.

Saihara in this form only has his gaping-void mouth, but that doesn’t stop Oma from trying to kiss him, reaching to plant his lips on whatever patch of skin he can find. Saihara’s eyes are all closed, and Oma kisses all of his eyelids, one by one, leaving no stone unturned. 

Once he’s done lavishing his attention on Saihara, he pulls back. “Okay, that’s enough of that! Time for the main event!” he quips, and Saihara’s eyes all fly open as Oma reaches down with one hand to grab hold of his dick, rubbing the tip against his entrance.

There’s a slight burning sensation as the head of Saihara’s dick slips into him, achingly slow, finally getting past the rim of his ass.

“A-Ah!” Oma gasps, grasping Saihara’s forearm for leverage as he continues to lower himself down, feeding Saihara’s dick into himself inch by torturous inch. 

Saihara gently holds Oma’s hips to support him, not once looking away from his face in case he misses any signs of pain. He can’t talk while like this, so he has to either wait for Oma to say something or read Oma’s body language to gauge what he should do next. And since Oma is terrible at telling the truth, he has to rely mostly on the latter.

Eventually, Oma takes all of Saihara inside him, his ass coming to rest fully on Saihara’s lap and his own dick pressed between their stomachs. 

“This feels…kinda weird…” Oma says while experimentally clenching his insides, causing Saihara to reflexively buck into him further.

“Hngh! So, you like that, huh? Haaa…” 

Of course, Saihara can’t respond with words, so he demonstrates that yes, he does indeed like that by beginning to thrust in and out of Oma.

“Hnnngh haaa… Saihara-chan…” Oma lets out little whimpers of pleasure which escalate into unabashed moans as he encircles his arms around Saihara’s neck once more, rolling his hips in time to Saihara’s thrusts. 

He looks down at Saihara, taking in every detail of his face, committing it all to memory. Most people would have run for the hills by now if they ever saw his face this close up, but not Oma. 

Oma loves his face, no matter what it looks like, because he loves Saihara.

“Are you just gonna stay silent the whole time? Nishishi…” Oma giggles while bouncing on Saihara’s lap, enjoying the girth of Saihara’s dick stretching him so wide and making him feel so full with each re-entry. 

All of Saihara’s eyes are all looking up at Oma in reverence, and Oma for the life of him can’t understand why he had ever found him so scary. 

With a little bit of adjusting, the head of Saihara’s dick finally brushes against Oma’s prostate, causing him to see stars.

“Haaa! There! Saihara-chan!” he yells, arching backwards, and Saihara complies by picking up his pace, his grip on Oma hips tightening as he pummels into that spot inside of him without mercy.

Saihara carefully manoeuvres them so that Oma is pushed down flat onto the mattress, leaving Saihara hunched over him in the same way that he had been hunched over the deer in the woods. It sends a spark of thrill up Oma’s spine, his heart rate increasing rapidly and blood rushing straight to his dick.

Looking into the gaping mouth looming over him now, Oma finds that he wouldn’t mind it if Saihara decides to tear into him and swallow him whole just like he had done with that deer, but he knows that Saihara would never lay a finger on him. Still, he can’t help but get off on the idea.

Pulling him down so that their chests are pressed flush together, Oma places his chin on Saihara’s shoulder, his hands scrabbling against his back, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks. Although he’s currently lost in the delirium of pleasure, Oma’s hands brush against something unusual, bringing him slightly out of his lust-induced haze as his curiosity begins to take over. 

Moving his hands, he finds that there’s an opening in Saihara’s back, a slit that runs from the top of his spine to the near bottom. It looks like someone had sliced him clean with a knife, with no blood spilling out.

Ever the adventurer, Oma decides to literally poke around, prodding his fingers at the slit. The tips of his small fingers reach into it, and in return, a small tentacle prods him back.

T-Tentacles?

Well…this is certainly an interesting development.

Oma stares in awe of the lone tentacle emerging from Saihara’s back, thick and black with a blueish sheen, wrapping itself delicately around his hand, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of how Saihara had held Oma’s hand in his own. 

“Haaa?” Oma moans in confusion, running his thumb across the smooth surface of the appendage. It twitches in appreciation of Oma’s gentle ministrations. 

Surely there’s more than this, right? The slit on Saihara’s back is huge, so there has to be more. This must mean Saihara is holding himself back for some reason. Oma is disappointed; he’ll have to have a word with him about it later, when he’s not being thoroughly rawed by his massive dick.

He has to give his props to Saihara, both for maintaining such a consistent pace and for never failing to hit his prostate. Not bad for a virgin.

Oma’s brain is in overdrive, rapidly flickering through all the things he wants Saihara to do to him. He wants Saihara to stalk him through the forest, hunt him down and fuck him on top of a carcass of an animal he’s killed. He wants Saihara to hold his hand under the table when they go on dates to a restaurant. He wants Saihara to haunt both his dreams and his nightmares. He wants it all.

There’s a familiar feeling fluttering inside of his ribcage; something he’s been trying to suppress for countless months; something ready to make itself known.

“ _I love you!_ I love you… Shuichi! Shuichi, Shu…ichi…” he babbles, tears now streaming freely down his face and drool pooling by the side of his head, sticking to his sweat-matted hair. He’s a hot mess but he can’t find it in himself to care at all. 

Saihara stops his thrusting, going still above him and Oma can feel the first, hot splash of come coating his insides, with more spurts joining in succession.

Oma’s mouth is wide open, tongue lolling out and panting for air. The sensation is too much for him to process, having to close his eyes to help regain his bearings. 

“Nishishi… I can’t believe… I can’t believe you came from that! Wooow! You’re such a sap, S-Saihara-chan…” Oma teases between ragged gasps and choked sobs, but really he’s revelling in the feeling of Saihara’s come inside of him; now he belongs to him, and him only.

In reply, Saihara grabs hold of Oma’s neglected dick, red and hard and leaking precome from having had his prostate stimulated for so long, and strokes it fast and unforgiving.

It doesn’t take long for Oma to reach orgasm, screaming and arching his back off the mattress as strings of semen spurt from his dick, most of it landing on his stomach with some drops even reaching to his neck.

Once Oma stops writhing, Saihara finally pulls out of him, his hole immediately leaking come and twitching at the emptiness. 

Blissed out, Oma flitters between consciousness and unconsciousness, and he’s not entirely sure if any of this was real or just a dream. 

He panics for a moment when he can’t feel Saihara’s body next to his, but then the bed dips and he is faintly aware of a warm damp towel being run over his body; starting from his face and working its way downwards to his toes, taking extra care to clean up the rivulets of come and lube dripping from his ass and between his thighs.

Once that’s done, Saihara’s now-human face presses into his hair, his warm hands caressing Oma’s trembling body in soothing motions.

“I love you too, Kokichi.”

And with that, Oma falls asleep.

-

“Eh? So, you didn’t find anything?! How lame…”

Oma’s eye twitches in anger.

“Listen! I tried my best, alright?! You’re lucky that I’m such a kind leader, otherwise I would’ve fed you to my piranhas by now for your insubordination!”

Bubbles has his hands on his hips, clearly not impressed. 

“I don’t believe it for a second that you broke your phone while in the woods. All that talk and nothing to show for it…what a shame,” he tsks. 

Oma considers glancing over to Saihara to get him to back him up, but he knows that all he’s going to get is a smug look thrown back at him, the bastard.

“Whatever! Believe what you want to believe, I’m done!” He blows a raspberry at Bubbles in a last-ditch attempt at getting back him.

Bubbles sighs, pinching the skin of his forehead in exasperation. “How do you put up living next door to him, Saihara-kun?”

Saihara looks up from his book, his eyes shining with amusement, but his face carefully blank.

“I don’t,” he replies, trying his best to contain his smile.

-

It’s been a long day for both Oma and Saihara, and now they’re back home, relaxing together on the couch in their usual positions.

Saihara, as always, is reading a book, with one arm encircled around Oma. Meanwhile, Oma is sitting on his lap, his head resting against Saihara’s collarbone and tapping idly away on his new phone. Occasionally, he stops his scrolling to sneak glances at Saihara, who is too engrossed in his book to notice. 

When Oma looks at Saihara now, he realises that he’s always had an otherworldly beauty to him. He’s so beautiful it seems almost unnatural; no flaws or blemishes in sight, the colour of his eyes is unlike anything Oma has ever seen before, and his face is perfectly shaped, as if it’s carved from the smoothest marble. There is not a single thing out of place. It’s really obvious now that Saihara is not human, and his guise is just him masquerading as one to an uncanny degree. 

“What are you looking at?” Saihara teases.

Oma blushes; he’s usually good at not being caught staring.

“O-Oh! Nothing…just thinking about how ugly you look! Nishishi!” Nice save, Oma Kokichi. 

To his surprise, Saihara actually hums in agreement. “Yeah…I guess you’re right. I am pretty ugly.”

He doesn’t sound hurt or upset; he just accepts it as a fact. Hearing Saihara say that makes Oma feel guilty; he doesn’t think Saihara is ugly at all. As a matter of fact, he thinks quite the opposite.

Pushing his guilt aside, Oma decides to change the topic. “I’m thinking of rebranding DICE to being a criminal organisation. We’ll commit the most heinous crimes and make a name for ourselves in the criminal underworld! What do you think, Shumai?” he asks innocently, as if they’re discussing which flavour of ice cream to get. 

“I think it’s not a good idea to tell your boyfriend who works with law enforcement that you want to lead a criminal organisation, Kokichi,” Saihara deadpans.

His response doesn’t deter Oma one bit. “How about we make a deal? _I_ don’t tell anyone that you’re an entity from another plane of existence, and _you_ don’t tell anyone that I’m the leader of a criminal organisation! A perfect trade-off, don’t you think?”

Saihara is not convinced by the proposal, putting his book down and frowning at him. “…Are you blackmailing me?”

Oma grins. “Nishishi…maybe!”

Saihara shakes his head, holding Oma’s small face in his hands and leaning down to press a kiss to his giggling mouth. Oma stops his laughter to return the kiss, more than ready to deepen it when Saihara prematurely pulls away, leaving him whining.

“Shumai!”

“Consider that pay-back for trying to blackmail me,” Saihara says. He’s not sorry at all for denying Oma what he wants, the monster.

“You’re a big meanie! I’m breaking up with you!” Oma huffs, burying his face into the crook of Saihara’s neck.

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” Saihara asks, gently carding his fingers through Oma’s hair, his other arm picking up the task of wrapping around Oma’s waist.

Oma says nothing to that, letting his silence speak for him. Meanwhile, Saihara continues to play with the soft strands of Oma’s hair caught in the space between his fingers.

“…I was lying earlier too, you know,” Oma eventually says. He says it so quietly that Saihara probably wouldn’t have heard him if his head wasn’t right next to his ear. 

“Hmm? About what?”

“I don’t think Saihara-chan is ugly at all,” Oma starts, moving his head back to look at Saihara in the eye. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, Saihara-chan. You’ll always be handsome to me…”

Saihara blinks at the surprise earnest confession. He then bursts into laughter.

“W-What?” Oma asks, his face turning red.

“Ko…Kokichi…!” he wheezes Oma’s given name, wiping away tears of laughter from his eyes.

“I’m being honest with you, and you’re laughing at me?!“ Oma is really getting fed up of people not taking him seriously. He may lie a lot, but that doesn’t warrant people turning him into some kind of a laughing stock. 

“S-Sorry, Kokichi,” Saihara says, his laughter gradually subsiding. “I’m not laughing at you.” He leans his head down again to kiss Oma’s pouting face. “I know you’re telling the truth, it’s just that I didn’t expect you to actually say it.”

“What do you mean?”

Saihara smiles, though he looks nervous. “Ah well… I see the way you look at me, while we have… Um…”

Have sex, Oma’s brain helpfully finishes for him. 

“Oh…” Oma looks away, his face beet red in embarrassment. He didn’t think he was _that_ obvious.

Saihara’s long fingers gently tilt his head, so that Oma has no choice but to look at him.

“Thank you, Kokichi. Though…it is pretty sappy, isn’t it?” Saihara asks, his voice lilting.

The nerve of this guy, using his own taunts against him.

Oma huffs. “Well… I guess that makes two of us,” he says, making a show of folding his arms despite not really feeling annoyed at all.

Saihara’s smile widens.

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> Let Oma get vored by his cryptid boyfriend 2k20.


End file.
